


The Snowmageddon of the Century

by Anonymous



Category: Captain America, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Cuddling & Snuggling, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, Sledding, also kissing in the snow, winter shenanigans, zero man-pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky brave the Snowmageddon to make a snowman in the park. They're the oldest kids there. They aren't even kids. </p>
<p>Written for <a href="http://stevebucky-fest.dreamwidth.org/307.html?thread=325683#cmt325683">this prompt</a> at <a href="http://stevebucky-fest.dreamwidth.org">SteveBucky fest</a> .</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Translation <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/1699529"> Снегомагеддон века</a> by Efinie</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Snowmageddon of the Century

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Снегомагеддон века.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1699529) by [efinie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/efinie/pseuds/efinie)



> Written for this prompt at SteveBucky fest:
> 
> Steve and Bucky go sledding. Using the shield. 
> 
> Apparently when I start writing again, I can't stop writing. As always, good and bad criticism is very welcome! Un-betaed, so all mistakes are my own.

            Steve wakes up in the morning and makes breakfast, and only thinks to look out the window when someone on the radio rambles on and on about how they had to dig themselves out of their house and trudge through four feet of snow to get to their car.

 

            “Steve, Steve! Did ya hear? They’re callin’ it the Snowmageddon of the century!” Bucky shouts with glee when he skids into the kitchen some two hours later. He looks ridiculous wearing only boxers and socks, and his stupidly adorable face is the reason Steve completely misses his mouth with the forkful of syrupy pancakes.

 

            “Ow,” Steve gripes in mock-annoyance, wiping the sticky sugar off his cheek. “Maple syrup was a lot less sticky in the 40’s,” Steve muses because seriously, the syrup is definitely atomically fused to the skin on his cheek. Steve de-sticks the syrup from his cheek—by the time he picks up his fork again to finish his pancakes there’s nothing left on his plate. Steve blinks down at the plate with dismay.

 

            “Where’d all my pancakes go-“

 

            “C’monmff, let’s go!” Bucky laughs through a mouthful of pancake before planting a disgustingly maple syrupy-sweet kiss on Steve’s just-cleaned cheek. And then Bucky’s gone in a whirlwind of excitement, grabbing sweaters and pants and socks.

 

            Steve never stood a chance.

 

            By all accounts, Steve thinks, he and Bucky should hate the snow. It’s only natural; Steve was frozen in it for some 70 odd years, and Bucky, well, he wasn’t called the Winter Soldier for nothing.

 

            Which is why the afternoon finds the two of them with weather-proof boots and sleek SHIELD-issue winter coats zipped high up their necks, ready to go build a snowman at the park.

 

            Halfway to the park, Bucky decides that Steve has a totally unfair advantage, what with being Gigantor and having enough muscles to basically punch through the snow while everyone else has to trudge. Like most things that Bucky does, Steve doesn’t see it coming—one second they’re both holding hands (or rather, mittens) happily making their way through the snow, and the next second Steve’s being fly-tackled to the ground. Bucky cackles as he shoves a handful of snow down the back of Steve’s shirt and takes off.

 

            By the time they finally make it to the park they’re both red in the face from laughing (and maybe just a little kissing).

 

            They’re the oldest kids in the park.

 

            They’re not even kids.

 

            There’s a giant hill and more than enough snow to go around, so Steve gathers Bucky around the waist and tosses him into the snow, quickly following suit and pining him against the ground. He doesn’t even notice as they sink deeper and deeper into the melting snow until Steve turns his face to get at Bucky’s neck and is met with a face full of coldness. Steve stands up and pulls Bucky with then, properly kissing him. Bucky’s lips are cold and wet, and then Bucky’s sucking Steve’s tongue into his scorching mouth and it’s enough to send shivers down Steve’s spine.

 

            Steve’s too busy being kissed breathless to notice one of Bucky’s hands sneakily gathering a fistful of snow behind his back.

 

            “Gotcha!” Bucky yells as Steve splutters against a giant mouthful of snow.

 

            “Okay, this means war,” Steve declares, and Bucky grins the biggest shit-eating grin that Steve’s ever seen.

 

            An hour later, Steve swears because it suddenly dawns on him that oh yeah, Bucky’s been sniping targets since half a century ago. Steve gets nailed in the face. Repeatedly.

 

            Steve’s never backed down from a battle before, but even he knows a defeat when he sees one, especially if it comes in the form of snowballs in the forehead.

 

            They’re making snow angels when Steve flips onto his side. Bucky’s lying flat on his back with his arms and legs spread, his mouth open wide trying to catch snowflakes. Steve most definitely doesn’t blush, because it’s not Bucky’s fault he can look like a little kid and a porn star at the same time.

 

            “Bucky, what are you doing?”

 

            “What does it look like I’m doing, idiot?”

 

            Bucky’s eyes widen when Steve doesn’t say anything.

 

            “Oh my God, you dirty bastard,” Bucky laughs, rolling over in the snow on top of Steve.

 

            “You ruined my snow angel, you jerk,” Steve says, nipping at Bucky’s lower lip, and Bucky pulls back, staring at Steve through snowflake-wet eyelashes. “I’ll make it up to you later,” Bucky whispers in Steve’s ear, and if Bucky doesn’t stop soon, the park is not going to be kid-friendly anymore.

 

            “’Betcha can’t beat me to the top of the hill-”

 

            “Deal,” Bucky says before Steve’s even finished offering his challenge.

 

            “What are we betting?”

 

            The sly wink Bucky throws in Steve’s direction is enough of an answer. “We’ll figure it out when there aren’t so many little kids running around, ‘kay?” Bucky purrs, and then it’s on.

 

            Let it never be said that Captain America doesn’t play dirty.

 

            Bucky’s ahead of Steve for most of the time; a third of the way left to the top of the hill and Steve lunges forwards and yanks Bucky’s leg out from under him. Steve darts to the top, laughing as Bucky tries to gracefully recover from a face plant.

 

            “Gotcha!” Steve teases, giggling as Bucky pulls himself out of the snow. Bucky rolls a snowball and Steve ducks before it can hit his face. “Cheater!” Bucky hollers at the top of his lungs; Steve’s pretty sure some of the little kids are terrified.

 

            It’s getting late by the time both of them realize that they should probably be heading back to the apartment. Most of the people have left the park--there only a few older teenagers are left trying to do tricks down the hill. And that’s when Bucky sees it—a plastic sled that someone forgot behind a tree.

 

            It’s comical; a tiny red kiddie sled was never meant for two grown men. Frankly, Steve’s surprised that the little plastic thing lasts as long as it does. Bucky demands to sit in the front; there really isn’t much room, so Steve plasters himself to Bucky’s back. One very slow ride down the hill later, the sled snaps.

 

            “Damn,” Bucky murmurs sadly, staring down at the thing, and Steve frowns because this is the closest he’s seen to Bucky looking like a sad puppy.

 

            Let it also never be said that Captain America doesn’t occasionally have bad ideas as well. Steve blames it on Bucky’s bad influence.

 

            They run back to the apartment and back to the park, and the sun is setting when they race back up the hill and settle themselves inside Steve’s shield; it’s a lot more spacious than the plastic red sled.

 

            “Ah, much better,” Bucky sighs, wiggling in Steve’s grip.

 

            “Stop rubbing your butt on my shield,” Steve says as he kisses the back of Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s whole face lights up with laughter, and Steve falls just a little more in love.

 

            This time it’s a success. Steve’s glad—it would be a bit difficult to explain to Fury how Captain America managed to break a vibranium shield. They fly down the hill, Bucky tipping the shield this way and that to swerve around trees and wayward teenagers.

 

            When they get to the bottom of the hill, Bucky turns around in the sled and kisses Steve.

           

            “I’m glad we got to sled in the name of America,” Bucky says as he licks a stripe up Steve’s cheek. “And your cheek still tastes like maple syrup.”

 

            Steve laughs and pushes Bucky off the shield-sled into the snow.

 

            “Race again? I promise I’ll play fair,” Steve says solemnly, picking up the shield.

 

            They sled until it’s too dark to see where they’re going. Steve slings the shield over his back, and he and Bucky slowly make their way back to the apartment.

 

            The welcoming warmth of the living room has them peeling out of their wet clothes and hanging them on the backs of chairs to dry. Steve makes hot chocolate while Bucky fetches some extra blankets.

 

            They sit on the couch, blankets wrapped around the both of them, sipping at their hot chocolates. “You know, we never DID get to make that snowman,” Bucky murmurs drowsily against Steve’s chest, half asleep.

 

            Steve shrugs. “There’s always next time,” he yawns, kissing the top of Bucky’s head.

 

            They fall asleep on the couch cuddled close together, and Steve thinks that yeah, maybe winter isn’t so bad after all.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my attempt at writing something cute and fluffy instead of dark and scary, so I hoped it turned out all right. This pairing is seriously addicting to write for. My apologies for bad attempts at humor, and thanks for reading! 
> 
> Inspiration for this is taken from where I live. Lake Michigan likes to dump 10+ inches of snow on us every other week during the winter season.


End file.
